Humans are weird: Aesthetic vs Function
( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord ) “Sir, I am getting several urgent dispatches from the loading area.”
Captain Morris looked up from his data pad at his communications officer.
“Is something wrong?” he asked as he stood up and walked over to their terminal station on the bridge. The officer held his hand to his headset, listening to the messages before answering his captain.
“It appears several of the Corvo soldiers are refusing to relinquish their weapons. Security got involved and the Corvo resisted; two arms men were injured.”
This perked Morris’s interest, and not in a good way. The Corvo were allies in the war effort and he had heard of their abnormal customs from other captains so he had been prepared to give them some leeway while they traveled on his ship, but it was another matter entirely when his crew were harmed.
“Mr. Dover,” Morris called out, “a word if you would.”
From the opposite side of the bridge the master-at-arms Tristan Dover strode over to his captain. He was not a tall man, but wide in frame. His broad muscled shoulders meant that in some instances aboard the ship he needed to turn himself to be able to pass through doorways.
Tristan stood at attention and saluted Morris who returned the salute in kind.
“Are you aware of the situation in loading bay…”
The captain turned to his communications officer who quickly understood the meaning and spoke “Loading Bay 4.”
“Thank you, “the captain replied before continuing, “yes, are you aware of the situation in loading bay 4?”
“I am sir.” Travis replied crisply. “My security details passed the word along to me just now.”
“Any further details?” the captain inquired.
Travis crossed his arms. “I was told that the Corvo refused to relinquish their weapons upon entering the loading bay. When the matter was pressed and the security detail made to enforce the issue the Corvo drew their weapons and attacked them.”
“Casualties?”
Travis shook his head. “Minor wounds only.”
The captain nodded. He paced back and forth between the terminals, stopping to read strands of data or make a quick check with the monitoring officer, then returned back and pointed at the communication officer.
“Tell the security details to hold the Corvo in the loading bay until Mr. Dover arrives.”
The officer nodded and relayed the order over the com while Morris leaned in close to Travis.
“Remind our guests that this is my ship, and while they are on my ship they will follow my rules and that injuring my crew is not to be tolerated.”
Morris leaned back and was about to leave when he stopped himself and leaned back in. “I don’t mind a dirty decking, so long as it is not cluttered.”
Travis nodded at his captain and left the bridge; cracking his knuckles and flashing a smile. -----------------
It took about thirty minutes for Travis to make it to Loading Bay 4. He needed to make a quick stop at the armory to grab a few things. When he arrived he found at least a dozen security officers standing in a line separating the Corvo from the rest of the loading bay. The deck crew still went about their duties save for the occasional glance over at the commotion.
The Corvo were easy to pick out from behind the wall of security as despite having a humanoid form stood roughly seven feet tall on average. They were adorned in a mixture of combat armor and religious robes.
As Travis approached the security officers stepped aside to make a path for him. When he got to the front one of saluted.
“Good to see you sir.” They replied crisply. Travis grunted in response and stepped forward to the Corvo’s.
“I understand there has been an incident here and you have attacked our crew.” Travis began with a calm yet authoritative voice. “I am here by order of the captain to remind you that while we are allies you will follow the rules of this ship while you are onboard.”
One of the Corvo stepped forward and looked down at Travis. His shoulder guard was decorated with three blue stripes signifying that he was the leader; or at least that’s what Travis thought it meant. The only thing he generally cared about in briefings when dealing with aliens were ordinance and cultural triggers for violence.
“I am Mak’t, and I would apologize for this misunderstanding.”
He reached down and began pulling out what appeared to be a sword from a sheath. The security officers made to raise their weapons but Travis forestalled them with a wave.
“These, “ Mak’t began as he pulled the sword free, “are our Okamban blades, sacred to our people.”
As he fully withdrew the blade it burst into bright blue flames as if the very air ignited it on contact.
“It is said that so long as these blades burn the spirit of our ancestors continue to watch over us on the battlefield; and so we could not surrender them as your officers asked.”
Travis watched the flame flicker brightly and whistled in wonder. “A fancier blade I have not seen,” Travis admitted, “but I find it rather odd in this age to bring a sword to a neutron cannon fight.”
Mak’t sheathed his sword once more while shaking his head.
“Forgive me for saying, but the weapons of your people and of our enemies are inferior to our blades.” He rested a hand on the hilt and looked down at Travis, matching his cold gaze with his own. “We have been trained to block their attacks on the battlefield rendering them useless before us.”
Some of the security officers behind Travis rustled at that remark but he paid them no mind.
“Seems we’re at a bit of an impasse here then, friend.” Travis admitted. “Luckily for you the Captain has given me the authority to resolve this situation.”
He pointed to the collection of warriors standing behind Mak’t. “If you and two of your warriors can land a single blow on me with your blades then you can keep them while onboard, but if I win you will surrender them without hesitation and spend the remainder of this journey in the brig for the assault you carried out.”
Mak’t looked puzzled at this challenge. “Why would you face three of us alone?”
Travis smiled. “Thought I’d give you a fighting chance,” he said mockingly as the Corvo warriors growled in anger, “seeing that your disadvantage with weaponry is so staggering.”
Saying nothing at first, Mak’t just looked down at the tiny human before him before nodding in agreement. He made a soft clicking sound and two other Corvo warriors stepped forward, each drawing their blades while the human security officers stepped back to create a ring like circle around the parties.
“So, we’ll go on the count of three then.” Travis announced. His hands casually cradled a rifle between them as he watched the three Corvo warriors prepare themselves. Each took a different stance with the light of their flaming swords casting dozens of differing shadows about them.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
The Corvo warriors to either side of Mak’t lunged forward ready to bring down their flaming swords in an instant; screaming in their alien language as they got within three feet of Travis before he brought up his own rifle.
In a flash Travis brought up his rifle and fired at the closest warrior. The sudden attack broke the warriors forward momentum as they brought their weapon up to block the attack only to find that rather than an energy blast they were being pelted with dozens of tiny rocks.
The flaming sword blocked some of them but far too many simply went around the sword and embedded themselves into the alien’s skin causing them to scream out in pain and fall to the ground.
From the corner of his eye Travis saw a blur of motion and side stepped just in time to avoid the downward swing of the second warrior. The blade carved into the decking with a loud hissing sound before the warrior pivoted and brought the blade up for a slash at Travis’s midriff.
Pulling a knife free that had been strapped to his leg he casually flung it into the blade rather than around it. The second warrior was confused until they felt the burning hot sting of molten metal the knife had been reduced to shower his body. The armor he wore protected some of their frame but since they were not wearing a helmet a glob of red hot metal landed on the alien’s cheek giving off a stench of burning flesh.
Surprisingly the warrior rallied themselves than give into the pain only for Travis to bring up his rifle and fire another scatter shot center mass sending them balling over in pain. Travis couldn’t see but given the goop now dotted around the floor he wagered some of the rock salt just punctured one of their eyes.
With the two companions dealt with Travis turned his attention to Mak’t who had not engaged like the others when the fight began.
“You fight without honor.” Mak’t announced. “To use such trickery against true warriors is the act of a coward.”
“If I recall you said you were trained to defeat modern weapons,” Travis countered, standing between the downed Corvo warriors, “that my attacks would be rendered useless by your weapons.”
He unceremoniously kicked one of them hard in the back drawing the ire of Mak’t as he took up a stance for the first time.
“I even gave you a three on one advantage and you still say I am being unfair.”
“Your tricks will not work on me.” Mak’t declared.
Travis didn’t even bother to respond as he casually pulled a canister from a harness across his chest and threw it directly at Mak’t’s feet. Mak’t jumped backwards expecting further trickery rather than attempting to deflect it. To his surprise the canister did indeed not explode but rather began shooting out large volumes of a thick white gas.
The gas began to billow out more and more until the gathered ring of spectators was engulfed by it. Mak’t looked up from the canister just in time to see Travis donning a strange mask over his eyes and mouth.
It was only then that Mak’t heard coughing and gasping from his fellow Corvo warriors behind him and realized the gas must be some form of airborne weapon. He tightly clenched his mouth shut and carefully stepped forward to meet Travis in final combat. His breathing control would allow him at least ten minutes before he needed to inhale again giving him more than enou-
Mak’t made it barely three steps before his eyes began burning. They felt as if hot daggers were being shoved into them and twisted by the most merciless tormentor. This sudden influx of pain broke Mak’t’s concentration and he gasped out for air. No sooner had he taken his first breath did his lungs begin to share the burning sensation his eyes did, forcing the warrior to his knees as his hands feebly wiped his eyes again and again.
Through the blurry sight left to him he watched as Travis walked through the white cloud and stood over him. The human looked down at him and Mak’t could only imagine the look of smug satisfaction he must have held to see him brought so low.
Instead of gloating or boasting about how their weapons weren’t as inferior as Mak’t had declared, he brought down his fist as hard as he could against the alien’s face sending him straight to the floor.
“I think we count this as my win, yeah?” Travis asked the now unconscious Mak’t. He waved over the rest of the security officers who had likewise donned gas masks of their own and began the process of collecting the decorative swords from their guests before ushering them down to the med bay and finally their new home in the brig.
